


You Move Me

by sodium_amytal



Category: Rush (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Crack, Fluff, Food Porn, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodium_amytal/pseuds/sodium_amytal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU. Permanent Waves era.)</p><p>If this is the guy who’s going to give him a lap dance, Geddy would have to be the stupidest person in existence to refuse. The guy is tall, with blond hair reaching his shoulders in curled puffs that remind Geddy of one of those dogs with floofy, droopy ears hanging on either side of its face. He’s wearing white pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, and, wow, somehow that’s more effective than just being naked.</p><p>“Hi,” he says, pouring himself into Geddy’s lap, and, hot damn, even his voice is sexy. “I’m Lerxst. What’s your name?”</p><p>“Dirk.” Hey, he lied first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Move Me

"C'mon, Ged, just five minutes, and I promise you'll feel better about all this," Nancy urges, pulling Geddy over to a long, L-shaped couch in the dimly lit strip club.

"I'm fine, you don't have to—Tonight is about you, not me," Geddy protests, but arguing with Nancy is like shouting into a void.

She gets him onto the couch—how can someone so small be so strong?—and says, "Like I'm gonna be able to enjoy my bachelorette party if I know my best friend is home being depressed." She makes a grand sweeping gesture with her arm at the sea of hard-bodied men in sinful jeans and skin-tight tops. "There's plenty of other fish in the sea, and these fish are willing to give lap dances."

Geddy scrunches up his face. "Not the mental image I wanted to have."

"You're missing the point," Nancy says, rolling her eyes like Geddy is just the _worst_.

"Which is?"

"Forget about John and his heterosexuality by drowning yourself in hot man-meat."

"You really need to work on your phrasing!"

Nancy is getting married next week, which, on its own, is not a problem. It's the guy she's marrying: John Rutsey. Geddy's had a not-so-secret crush on John since Nancy started dating him a year ago. It doesn't help that John has been a supportive friend to Geddy, albeit a bit misguided. He once took Geddy and a few other friends to a gentlemen's club and bought Geddy a lap dance with a large-breasted blonde. Panicked, Geddy ended up ducking out the back and taking a cab home.

He imagines he'll exercise the same strategy here, because he really doesn't like strip clubs at all—not that he's judging anyone who does—but he'd rather be home reading or playing piano or one of his many hobbies Nancy teases him about.

Nancy has brought with her some girlfriends Geddy must have met at some point but doesn't really remember, but the girls are currently occupied with getting lap dances on the couch. So he's left with Nancy and her terrifying take-charge attitude.

"I'm gonna find you a man," she says, searching the room for someone fitting her unfathomable criteria.

"Wait, wait, just let me get a drink first," Geddy pleads, stalling for time. Nancy doesn't say no, so Geddy heads over to the bar on the other side of the room. He orders a rum and Coke to soothe his nerves, because he might've been able to cut out last time, but there's no way he can pull that same stunt here when Nancy's so determined to get him a lap dance.

The clientele is predominantly gay men, though there's a decent population size of women too. Most of the performers are men in drag, which Geddy's not really into, primarily because he's not attracted to women. But with his long hair and thin build, he's been mistaken for female too many times to count, and the blatantly homophobic reactions he's received have ensured gender play isn't one of his kinks.

Geddy sips his drink and tries not to draw too much attention to himself. It doesn't work, because Nancy sees his sulking form and steers him away from the bar. "Ged, c'mon, get into the spirit. Just sit down and enjoy yourself." She sort of shoves him onto the couch, and before he knows it a stunning blond is walking his way, and Geddy forgets how to breathe for a moment, because this might be the hottest person he's ever seen in real life.

The closer Hottie McHotface gets, the more certain Geddy is that, yep, this is the hottest person he'll ever see in his lifetime, and if this is the guy who's going to give him a lap dance, Geddy would have to be the stupidest person in existence to refuse. The guy is tall, with blond hair reaching his shoulders in curled puffs that remind Geddy of one of those dogs with floofy, droopy ears hanging on either side of its face. He's wearing white pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, and, wow, somehow that's more effective than just being naked.

"Hi," he says, pouring himself into Geddy's lap, and, hot damn, even his voice is sexy. "I'm Lerxst. What's your name?"

"Dirk." Hey, he lied first.

"Your friend is pretty adamant about me giving you a dance," Lerxst says, and his smile is surprisingly disarming.

"Well, you certainly seem like the guy to do it," Geddy says, trying his best not to stare. Lerxst smells like baby powder, peppermint, and some sort of cologne Geddy can't remember the name of.

He starts to sway and grind on Geddy's thighs, and Geddy chugs the rest of his drink in two quick swallows. Lerxst's shimmery pink top glistens against the flashing lights, and Geddy feels intoxicated already. "What were you drinking?" Lerxst asks.

"Oh, uh, rum and Coke."

"Nice. Classy." Lerxst moves effortlessly to the shitty disco music flowing through the club, and Geddy is already painfully hard. He really hopes Lerxst doesn't notice, then he's angry with himself for the thought, because it's not like this guy is a stranger to that sort of thing. Occupational hazards, or something. "The bar makes a pretty good apricot sour, if you wanna try."

"Isn't that kind of a girly drink?"

Lerxst makes a face, his perfect lips going pouty, and Geddy feels an invisible hand reach into his chest and squeeze. "Call it whatever you want, but it tastes good. Can you say that about most beers?"

Geddy considers that and shrugs. "Do you, uh, you want me to buy you a drink?"

Lerxst actually stops moving for a second, as though this is the first time anyone's ever offered. "You're sweet, but I'm gonna have to say no." His hips regain their slow grind, and Geddy sucks in a breath.

"You're not allowed to drink on the clock?"

"Well, that, and alcohol makes me sleepy. It's not really good for business when you fall asleep in the guy's lap." Lerxst laughs an angel's laugh. "I could really go for a milkshake, though."

This is, by far, the most bizarre conversation Geddy's ever had, primarily due to its context. He's not an expert on strip club etiquette, but he doubts the strippers routinely chat up the clientele like this.

"Do they make those here?"

"No." Another laugh.

"Well, you're shit outta luck," Geddy says, which earns a cute chuckle. The alcohol has hit his bloodstream in the best way, so he asks, "Unless you want me to buy you one later tonight," like there's any chance Lerxst will say yes.

Lerxst pauses again, his eyes—Blue? Green? Geddy can't tell in the dim lighting and the shadow Lerxst's fringe casts over his face—blinking in bewilderment. He smiles, and, fuck, even his teeth are perfect. "Are you asking me out, Dirk?"

Geddy thinks Lerxst is the type to appreciate forwardness, so he just goes for it. "Yeah, I am."

Lerxst presses his lips together in a sexy sort of way, like he's seriously considering this, and all Geddy can think about is kissing him. Or those lips wrapped around his cock. He's not going to be picky here. "I get off at ten. Where can you even get milkshakes that late?"

Holy shit. Is he stringing Geddy along here, or is he really going to do this? Guys who look like Lerxst don't go on dates with guys who look like Geddy, and the fact that they're meeting in a strip club just emphasizes how wrong this is. Geddy can't help but see himself through Lerxst's eyes: a sexless dupe too pathetic and inept to achieve contact with another gay man on his own terms.

But why not see where this goes? "Um, I know a place that's open 'til midnight. On the corner of York and Adelaide West. Bubba's Bar and Grill. My friend owns it. The shakes are ridiculous. My favorite is the birthday cake one, which has this pink sort of icing drizzle on the sides with sprinkles and whipped cream and a cherry, and sometimes they'll put an actual slice of cake on top, and one of those comically-huge lollipops, y'know, like they sell at carnivals and you're always like 'who eats those?'"

When nervous, Geddy will not shut the fuck up.

"Stop talking. I'm already half-hard listening to this," Lerxst cuts in, sounding deathly serious.

Geddy can't hear that and _not_ look. He's got to make sure. He swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly dry at the sight of Lerxst's erection packed away in those fucking pants. "Or maybe 'cause you're grinding in my lap?"

"That's the other half," he says with a goofy smile, and Geddy laughs. "You'd better not be fuckin' lying about these milkshakes, Dirk."

"No, no, no way," Geddy sputters like someone who has zero game. "I couldn't make this shit up. What would my endgame even be?"

"You could lure me to some shitty restaurant with your awesome milkshake spiel, then you hit me with a crowbar or something and shove me in the trunk of your car."

Geddy blinks. He's vaguely aware of how Lerxst's hips occasionally stop moving while he talks, like he's so caught up in their conversation he can't focus on anything else. "That's a pretty specific scenario."

"It could happen. I mean, you've got the cute nerd thing going on with the glasses, but that could be a ruse."

Geddy's face heats up, because Lerxst thinks he's cute. "No, I really need them to see."

Lerxst laughs a quiet sound that punctures Geddy's heart, even over the background noise of the music. He runs his hand down the side of Geddy's face, as though searching for something. His fingers are soft and strong all at once, and Geddy holds his breath, terrified of rejection.

But Lerxst just smiles and says, "Eleven o'clock tonight. I'll be there."

* * *

Geddy doesn't tell Nancy about his date when they leave the club. He isn't sure why, but part of him wants to keep it a secret a little while longer, like it's something just between the two of them. He makes up some half-hearted excuse for his good mood that Nancy seems to buy. She's a little tipsy, which probably explains why she swallows his lie so easily. They rode to the club together, so he drives her home.

She sits with her eyes closed in the passenger seat, her head pressed against the cold window. "I'm sorry about John," she says softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I knew you liked him, but I went out with him anyway. And now we're getting married..."

"He's straight. I doubt anything would've happened if you'd let me have him."

"Still, y'know, you're not s'posed to let boyfriends come between your friendships."

"I think we've done okay," Geddy says, rolling through the city lights and toward the gilded parks and golf courses of North Toronto. "John hasn't really come between us. We're all still friends. I've just pined uselessly and silently. He doesn't even know."

Nancy considers this for a moment, wordlessly gazing out the window.

"That blond sure was something, wasn't he?" Geddy says, attempting to lift her spirits.

She snickers. "So you had a good time?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Geddy's own blatant naivety doesn't really hit him until later when he's sitting in the diner at ten forty-five p.m. waiting for Lerxst to show. "You're here late," Neil, the owner, says as he approaches Geddy's usual booth to take his order. "Can't sleep?"

"Actually, I, um, I have a date."

Neil looks unfairly surprised by this, though it's not like Geddy's ever brought a date here before. On the rare occasions he actually has a date, they usually make the first move and ask him out, so Geddy isn't exactly in a position to pick the location.

Neil glances at the empty space across from Geddy. "You think he'll actually show up?"

Geddy rolls his eyes. "He might. He sounded pretty impressed with your milkshakes."

"Speaking of which, you want your usual?"

"Yeah, but, um, wait 'til he shows up. He should be here in, like, fifteen minutes."

"Sure, kid," Neil says with a smile before heading back behind the counter.

The staccato percussion of raindrops hitting the roof of the diner adds a strange ambiance to the soft music playing from the jukebox. Through the window, Geddy watches the rain pour down in angry torrents. Will Lerxst even show up? Maybe the weather has persuaded him not to bother. Or maybe he wasn't going to show up anyway. Why would he? Geddy's just some loser who asked him out at a strip club. Prime dating material here, obviously.

Of course Lerxst would act interested in him and say what Geddy wants to hear; that's his fucking job. Geddy was so distracted by Lerxst's easy smile and harmonious laugh that he forgot not to be such a goddamned idiot.

He's not going to come through that door, and Geddy will have to drink his milkshake alone and wallow in his shame and humiliation. Who even lets him make decisions? Clearly, he shouldn't be allowed out of the house without a chaperone to veto crazy bullshit like this. Someone to slap some sense into him and remind him, "No, the stripper doesn't _really_ like you. He's just doing his job, you dumb fuck."

Ten harrowing minutes later, the door opens and Lerxst steps inside, shaking the rain out of his hair and wiping his face with his hands. He's wearing a floppy pink sweater and light blue jeans, and somehow his other-worldly beauty is magnified here, like seeing a Rembrandt painting hanging in a dorm room. Lerxst immediately spots Geddy, and a smile spreads on his face.

"Hey," he says, sliding in opposite Geddy. Under the bright diner lights, Geddy can see Lerxst's eyes are blue. "Were you waiting long?"

"No." It only felt that way due to Geddy's panic-inducing worry.

Lerxst looks at the laminated menu on the table. "So where's the super awesome milkshakes you were talking about?" He frowns. "Don't tell me they're the ones that cost five dollars."

"Yeah."

"Damn. Do they come with a blowjob or something?"

Geddy's stomach jumps into his throat at the thought of blowjobs and Alex intermingling. "Don't worry about money. I asked you out, remember?"

"In that case, maybe I'll order two." Lerxst does something with his eyebrows that makes Geddy a little light-headed.

"I can barely finish one without feeling like I need a nap halfway through."

"That sounds like a challenge," Lerxst says, studying the menu and tapping a finger to his chin as though in deep thought. "Normally, I'd take it, but..."

Neil comes by to take their orders. "We didn't think you'd actually show up," he teases Lerxst.

Lerxst gives Geddy a wounded look. "Does that happen to you a lot?"

Geddy just sort of shrugs, embarrassed by Neil's cordiality.

Alex orders a cotton candy shake and, after Neil disappears into the kitchen, he leans forward and asks Geddy, "So what's your real name?"

Geddy blinks. "My name could really be Dirk. You don't know."

Lerxst studies him for a moment. "You don't look like a Dirk." Geddy pouts at him. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"You gave me a fake name?" Geddy gasps, pretending to be offended.

"You seriously thought my name was Lerxst?"

"I'm not really qualified to judge other people's names."

"Ooh, now I gotta know!" Lerxst folds his hands on the table and leans in. "Tell me! I'll even go first. I'm Alex."

 _Alex_ , Geddy thinks fondly. They're never going to get anywhere if he doesn't reveal his own name, and Alex has already displayed enough trust and interest in him to actually come here. "Geddy."

Alex's perfect mouth does a pouty, trying-not-to-smile thing. "Yeah, you really shouldn't be judging anyone's name," he says with a grin. His smile is radiant and open-hearted, and even Geddy's deeply-rooted fears of inadequacy can't stand up to it.

"How come you didn't think I'd show up?" Alex wonders, resting his chin on his hand. "Did I not say I was deeply invested in these milkshakes?"

"I just thought you were, y'know, working me." Geddy adds more words to distract Alex from how vaguely sexual that sounds. "You probably get asked out all the time by gross, creepy guys, and of course you have to tell them what they want to hear."

"Well, you're not gross and creepy."

"You thought I might have been lying so I could murder you or do unscrupulous things with you," Geddy reminds him.

Alex huffs a laugh. "Oh yeah, I did. But I was just messing with you. I don't actually think you're a serial killer."

Neil arrives and places both shakes on the table. Alex makes a dying whale noise when he sees them, because Geddy was not exaggerating about how extreme these milkshakes are. "You were dead serious about the oversized lollipops," Alex says, almost reverent. His shake looks like a baby shower in a glass, with swirls and bursts of pink and blue all over. There are pearly candies neatly pasted around a humongous scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of the glass. Then there's the fluffy clouds of cotton candy, two rock candy sticks and a huge lollipop jutting out of the top at jaunty angles.

Geddy's own shake is a rainbow monstrosity, with pink frosting oozing down the sides of the glass, and a goddamn piece of actual cake on top of the whipped cream. They almost look too pretty to eat.

"Presentation is important," Neil says. "If you guys need a root canal in the middle of these, let me know, okay?"

"This is already the best date ever," Alex says after Neil's walked away. He uses his spoon to edge away at the candy-covered scoop on top.

Geddy's first instinct is to feel flattered by that. "Do you go on a lot of dates with guys who ask you out at the club?"

"Sometimes." Alex sticks the spoon into his mouth, and Geddy has never wanted to be an eating utensil until just now. "If they're not pushy or drunk."

"Or gross and creepy."

Alex grins, like he's amused Geddy remembered. "Right."

"I guess they're not very impressive."

"They try to be. One guy took me to a Maple Leafs game, which was... interesting." Alex takes another spoonful. "He ended up getting into a fight with another guy who was supposed to be bringing him weed? I'm still not totally sure what happened, but it was kind of funny."

Geddy's digging into his own shake when Alex says, "Why don't you just ask me and get it over with?"

"Ask what?"

"Whether I have sex with the guys I date."

Geddy sort of chokes, because Alex's directness is disarming in a way that feels like bare-knuckle boxing.

"I know you're thinking about it."

"I'm not." If anything, he's thinking about whether Alex will have sex with _him_. "It doesn't really matter to me."

Alex raises his eyebrows, like he's trying to figure out Geddy's ulterior motives here.

"I asked you out 'cause I wanted to talk to you, and, oh God, that actually sounds more pathetic than any sort of sex-related reason."

"It's not pathetic," Alex says, flirtatiously reaching over and gathering some of the pink icing oozing down the side of Geddy's glass with his finger. He takes the digit into his mouth, and Geddy struggles not to imagine anything dirty about that. "Sorry, I had to know what that tasted like," Alex says, licking his lips. He edges his own glass closer and says, "You can try some of mine to even the score."

Geddy plucks out some cotton candy clouds, because it would probably be awkward not to since Alex has offered. "You seem to like overly-sweet stuff. Apricot sour, cotton candy..."

"You have a slice of cake on top of your milkshake, and you're judging my sweet tooth?"

"Not judging, just... observing."

Alex scoops out a heaping spoonful and stuffs it into his mouth. "Well, you're right. My taste buds haven't evolved since I was eight. It's a serious medical condition." The corner of his lips tugs into a smirk.

They spend the next thirty minutes talking and laughing and finishing their shakes. Alex actually finishes first, settling back against the maroon vinyl seat and sighing happily. "That was awesome."

"I told you," Geddy gloats. The huge lollipop is still sticking out of the top of the glass, and Geddy's tempted to take it for himself.

As though reading Geddy's mind, Alex snatches up the lollipop and says, "I'll eat this on my way home and be the envy of some poor cab driver."

That catches Geddy's attention. "You took a cab here?"

"Yeah," Alex says, his brow creased like he can't figure out why Geddy's surprised.

"Why?"

"'Cause my car's in the shop and it's a bit far to walk."

Geddy shakes his head. "I'm driving you home."

"What? No, you don't have to do that."

"It's no trouble. Besides, this is part of the date."

"And what if I'd drove myself here?"

"Then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Alex smiles and says, "Alright, jeez, you're so pushy," rolling his eyes like this is some great inconvenience.

It's still raining when they get outside, and their feet splash through small puddles as they run to Geddy's car. Alex fusses with his hair again after he slides into the passenger seat, and Geddy pretends not to notice the rivulets of water trailing down his throat. He switches on the heater to dry them off a bit faster. Alex sinks into the seat and stretches out his long legs. Geddy suddenly feels parched, like a man dying of thirst in a desert.

As much as Geddy would like to sit here with him forever, Alex would probably appreciate being driven home at some point. Geddy clears his dry throat and asks, "Where to?"

Alex gives him the address, and Geddy drives, albeit a little slower than usual, desperate to prolong each moment with Alex. "What made you, um, decide to get into this line of work?" Geddy asks. "Are you putting yourself through university, or..."

Alex laughs. "God, no, I _hated_ school. Getting my grade 12 was an ordeal. No, I just do it 'cause it's fun and I'm good at it. Plus, the money's not too bad either." He tilts his head the way a dog does when it hears a strange sound. "What do you do? I can't believe we've talked for this long and that hasn't come up."

"I just work at a record store," Geddy says with a shrug. "Nothing special."

"Do you get free concert tickets?"

"Sometimes."

"Can you get tickets for Judas Priest? I mean, if you wanna go out again..." Alex really shouldn't say things like that while Geddy's in control of a vehicle.

Geddy sputters an incoherent noise, and he figures since one moment of brazen stupidity has served him pretty well tonight, maybe he's due for another. "In what universe would I _not_ want to go out with you again? Of course! We might—we should probably have a plan B in case I can't get tickets..."

"I could buy you dinner," Alex suggests, completely casual, like dating is something they do all the time.

"You could do that."

"Or I could make you dinner. Not to brag, but I'm pretty good in the kitchen." Alex winks, like he knows exactly where Geddy's brain is taking that sentence.

But Geddy's focusing on a different implication here. "This isn't a 'To Serve Man' deal where you're going to literally make me dinner?"

"'It's a cookbook!'" Alex's laugh should be studied by science, because it's the most perfect sound Geddy's ever heard. "No, I'm not gonna literally cook you, you goof."

"I had to ask, y'know, just to be sure."

"Because of course if I was, I'd be obligated to tell you," Alex teases. "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre would've ended a lot differently if they'd just asked Leatherface whether he was gonna eat them."

"I feel like this conversation went off-track..."

"I asked if you wanted me to cook for you, and you got all weird about it." Alex doesn't seem to mind Geddy's weirdness, though, which gives him hope that Alex's weirdness is compatible with his own.

"Weird is pretty much most of my personality," Geddy says. "If you haven't learned that by now."

"Well, I dig it, so today's your lucky day." Alex flashes him a smile with flirtatious promise.

Alex lives east of downtown in a tiny house that looks like it's falling apart. It's crammed between other equally-rickety houses, and Geddy has to wonder if this is an elaborate prank. "What's wrong with your house?" he asks as he parks in the skinny driveway.

"Nothing, it just looks shitty. But it's bigger on the inside."

"Like a Tardis?"

Alex snickers. "Exactly like a Tardis. Except it doesn't travel through space and time. If it did, it would'a cost a hell of a lot more."

Then they're both quiet, and Geddy isn't sure what to say next, if he's allowed to try to kiss Alex. Maybe that's something he should try on the third date. Or maybe never.

Alex sort of turns in his seat to face him. He's looking at Geddy like he's waiting for something, then his gaze momentarily flicks to Geddy's mouth, and Geddy might be a little obtuse when it comes to dating, but he knows a signal when he sees one. Alex has already asked him for a second date, so combined with this moment of staring at his lips, it's a pretty safe bet Alex might be interested in kissing him.

Geddy leans in, and Alex's sweater is cold in his hand when he squeezes it tightly, uses it to bring Alex's mouth close enough to cover with his own. It's a soft, brief kiss, because Geddy isn't sure where to go with it, if they're at the open-mouthed kissing stage yet. But Alex's lips curve into a smile, then his mouth opens just a little, and Geddy hears the way his own breathing goes shaky.

This is definitely not the way Geddy expected tonight to go. It's not that he's disappointed, just... shocked. Pleasantly surprised. And wondering what the hell he did to earn this gorgeous man's open, wet and reckless mouth. He slides a hand into Alex's fluffy hair, and Alex hums a contented sound into the kiss before nipping at Geddy's lower lip and easing away.

"Gotta save something for the second date," Alex says, sheepish.

Geddy swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Does Alex really think there's a chance Geddy won't show up for date number two? Maybe Alex wants to buy himself some time to think about this. Or maybe he's a giant tease. Geddy's down for that. Really, he is.

Alex pops open the glovebox and digs around, withdrawing a pen and a scrap of paper. He scribbles something down, and it's only after Alex hands him the paper does Geddy realize what's written there. "Call me?" Alex says, like he isn't sure Geddy would even want to.

Geddy stares at the numbers, waiting for them to change into some sort of mocking message like, "Fat chance, idiot." He tries to console himself with the knowledge that Alex wouldn't volunteer his phone number if he didn't want Geddy to call. Unless it's a fake number—

"It's not a fake number," Alex assures him, which startles Geddy a bit.

"You can't read minds, can you?"

"No, you just—you looked like you might've been through that before, and I—" Alex starts over. "I like you a lot. And I know this might look like I'm just trying to score free shit, but that's not—that's not what I do."

Geddy knows there's a story behind that, and he's dumb enough to ask for it. "Did someone accuse you of doing that?"

Alex glances away like he's said something terrible. "The last time I went out with someone from the club, we went on a couple dates, and on the last we ended up going back to his place to smoke and drink. After a while, he started getting a little more hands-on than I wanted, so I told him to back off. He didn't like being told no and called me a freeloader. He said I trick guys into dates and use them to get free meals at fancy restaurants and concert tickets and premium dope. I guess he figured he was owed sex because we'd gone on a few dates by then."

Geddy is stricken by feelings he doesn't have a name for. "That's bullshit."

"I know, but it got to me, 'cause on the surface it looked like he was right. So I stopped dating guys at the club."

"Then why'd you go out with me?"

"Well, you're cute," Alex says with a smile, and Geddy's heart feels like it's going to pop out of his chest. "And you didn't seem like you belonged there." He shrugs his shoulders. "It was a judgement call."

"For better or worse, I'm glad you took a chance on me."

"Me too," Alex says before finding Geddy's mouth again. This kiss is quick and brief, but Alex makes it count, tilting his head just enough to lick Geddy's mouth open before easing back.

"I'll definitely call you," Geddy says when he remembers how to make words. Alex says goodbye and slips out of the car, and Geddy absolutely doesn't stare at his ass as he walks up to his front door. Mostly because it's hidden underneath the length of his sweater, but Geddy's imagination is working overtime filling in the blanks.

Alex gets inside and shuts the door. Geddy exhales a long breath, his nerves jittery like he's just survived a skydive.


End file.
